Brand New Obsession
by Limitbreaker
Summary: How Damon's obsession with the Lockwood's could have gone… AU from S2E2, slash, Damon/Mason.
1. Brand New Obsession

Stefan was glad that his brother had a new thing to obsess about. Damon was not stable since Katherine's return and it was better for all of them if he had something to distract him. But _this_ was going too far, Stefan realised as he watched Damon grabbing that poor boy's shoulders to compel him.

"Damon, no," Stefan said harshly. "Someone could get hurt."

Damon looked at him over his shoulder. "It's just a tiny, little experiment, okay?"

"No," Stefan replied, while the poor boy stared blankly through Damon. "Compel him to pick up a fight with someone and I compel him to forget about it."

Damon rolled his eyes and withdrew his hands from the boy's shoulders. "Okay, fine!" He turned on the spot and walked away, while Stefan took care of the poor boy, making sure he would return to whatever he was doing before Damon had tried to pull him into something that surely would not end well.

When Stefan searched for his brother, he found Damon trying to compel another boy. Stefan rubbed his temple before hurrying over to his brother.

"No," he said again, pointedly, and pushed Damon away from the boy. Stefan stared into the blank eyes of Damon's victim and told him to: "Go back to whatever you were doing and forget about this." Then he let him go. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he turned to face Damon. "I can do that the whole night."

Damon huffed. "Your life must be _so_ boring."

"Not boring enough to obsess about Zombie-werewolves," Stefan said with a smile. "But if you want to find out more about this stuff, then don't drag innocent people into this and do it yourself."

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Damon leant forward. "But I could explode."

Stefan kept smiling. "Maybe the ambiguously supernatural mystery uncle can take care of that."

"Okay," Damon said slowly. "You want me to do this myself? Okay. That'll be fun. Because I'm the master of deliberate provocation."

"I'm not regretting this," Stefan said.

"Not yet." Damon waved at him, slowly walking backwards, as if giving Stefan a last chance to change his mind. He whirled around a bit too dramatically and disappeared in the crowd, searching for Mason Lockwood.

Stefan shook his head, before he followed Damon.

* * *

Mason Lockwood had stopped at the ring toss and was apparently bored enough to throw his money away for the game. Damon sneaked up to him from behind.

"Aren't you too old for this?"

Mason looked at him, tilted his head slightly and obviously tried to figure out who his opposite was. "It's for a good purpose," he said with a quick glance on his rings. He started turning them distractedly. "I guess… Most of this stuff is a charity event. And you seem a bit old for a highschool carnival, too."

"You're never too old for charity," Damon replied sweetly. That was apparently enough to earn Mason's sympathy, because he smiled at Damon and reached out his free hand.

"We haven't met before, have we? I'm Mason Lockwood."

Damon shook Mason's hand, but did not notice any particular strength, surely because Mason would not want to break any hands by accident.

"Damon," he introduced himself and squeezed Mason's hand a bit tighter, but that only ended their handshake. "Damon Salvatore. Very nice meeting someone my age here."

Mason frowned a little, as if he tried really hard to remember something, the name, probably. "Salvatore, yeah? How's the old Zach doing?" He remembered a bit too much.

"He's on vacation." The answer slipped out without Damon's permission. "Left me and my brother to protect that old, dusty mansion from nasty rats."

Mason nodded wordlessly, his eyes drifting back to his rings. Damon leant against the counter and waved at the girl that sold the rings.

"Hey, give me a couple of these," he demanded and slammed a five-dollar bill on the counter. As he received his rings, he flashed a challenging smirk at Mason. "Up for a competition?"

"Not sending your brother this time?" Mason asked, referring to Stefan's recent and especially poor attempt to blow his ninja turtle cover.

"I'm not in danger to break your hand this time," Damon said and although he was serious, Mason did not seem to believe him. He only laughed. And he should rather enjoy his last laugh tonight. Damon was ready to drive Mason mad just with rings, and that was a far better attempt to blow whatever supernatural it was that Mason needed to cover.

Mason aimed and threw his ring with an expression so full of determination that it was incredibly amusing to see it falling apart as Damon's ring hit his in the air. Both rings crashed to the floor.

"Oops," Damon said pointedly when Mason looked at him disbelievingly. "Looks like we crossed paths at the wrong moment."

"Looks like," Mason answered coldly, probably already close to crossing the line to rage and wrath. He aimed with his second ring and watched Damon's movements out of the corner of his eye, certainly waiting for him to make the first move. Damon pretended to throw, but held on to his ring after Mason let go of his. Like this he pushed Mason closer to the line to rage and wrath.

"Sorry," Damon drawled. Mason glared at him, as if he had not just scored a decent number of points. To increase this annoyance, Damon threw his ring so that it landed on top of Mason's. "Wow, looks like our rings are really into each other."

Mason's smile was crooked and Damon was sure that he rolled his eyes as he turned to throw his last ring.

The line was getting thinner with every second.

Damon threw his last ring at Mason's head and crossed the line. Mason looked at him so full of anger that the emotion visibly flared up in his blue eyes, bringing a flash of gold onto the iris. He blinked and it was gone, but Damon knew that he had not imagined it. He just needed to stir this fire a little more.

Mason clenched his teeth and asked, "What was that about?"

"I'm so sorry. Your enormous head was in my way," Damon teased, hoping for Mason to lose the last string to sanity. Sadly, he only received a stiff smile.

"I won," Mason said, letting the words roll off his tongue with relish that made anger curl in Damon's stomach. "It was nice disgracing you, Damon."

Damon glared after Mason, who walked away with his head held up high like he just received a gold medal and not the highest score at a game of ring tossing.

"You better watch your way or you trip over your solar-system-sized ego," Damon called after him. Mason just lifted his hand to wave, not even turning around. Damon was close to crossing his line of anger very soon. The girl behind the counter tugged at his sleeve. "What?"

"Uhm, your friend's prize," she said and handed a fluffy teddy bear out to Damon. "Thanks for playing."

"I scored, too. Where's my prize?"

"I thought you were doing a competition?" The girl smiled innocently, and if Damon had not been trying to be a good boy for a change, he would have sucked every drop of blood out of her. Luckily for her, it was more important to follow Mason. Damon was not finished with him, anyway.

Damon caught up to Mason and stepped into his way. He held the teddy bear in front of Mason's eyes. In a high and disgustingly sweet voice he said, "Why did you leave me?"

"I'm too old for teddy bears."

Damon lowered the teddy bear to smirk at Mason. "You're too old for a highschool carnival, too."

"Fuck you."

Damon had rediscovered the thin line and threw the teddy bear over it at Mason's head. Mason caught it, but dug his fingers tightly enough into the fluff to rip the stuffed animal apart.

"Give it to your nephew," Damon suggested. "He surely needs something that cradles him to sleep after his father burned to death. Or are you taking care of that?"

For the glimpse of a second, Damon thought Mason would bite off the teddy bear's head. But before the slightest glimmer of joy could change Damon's mood, Mason laughed. Soft and truly amused. Instead of turning into the new evil of Mystic Falls that Damon could have conquered to earn sympathies, Mason Lockwood turned out to be the reincarnation of fucking Yoda.

"You're funny, dude," Mason said and patted Damon's shoulder in passing. Shaking his head, he simply walked away. No one walked away like this when Damon Salvatore wanted them to lose their temper.

But what could he do to push Mason over this unbelievingly thick line?

The idea hit him brutally.

Damon lunged at Mason and did the one thing that lately seemed to upset everyone.

He kissed Mason. Straight on the mouth.

And for a deliciously long moment he felt inhumanely hot lips moving against his. Before he could feel confusion at this, a fist hit his jaw with enough power to send him straight to Mexico. Damon did not fake that he stumbled backwards, but that he slumped to the ground. From down there he was in the perfect position to watch Mason's eyes changing with wrath, and the way Mason jumped at him reminded him more of an animal than a human.

Damon frowned. "Uh-oh…"

* * *

Stefan waited on the parking lot for Damon, rubbing his temple and simultaneously grinning mischievously. He could not help it, considering the bruise in his brother's face that was not visible anymore when he stopped in front of Stefan.

"Shut up, Stefan."

"I'm sorry, no," Stefan said, close to bursting into laughter. "You kissed him? You _kissed_ him? What exactly is this proving?"

"That your girlfriend is out of danger?"

Stefan did not lose his smile. Damon crossed his arms in defence.

"The result is what matters. He totally freaked out. He managed to _break_ my jaw. The way he moves is not human… and his eyes… there's something about his eyes…"

"That makes your heart beat faster?" Stefan could not keep it any longer when Damon flashed him his coldest glance. He started laughing heavier than he had in weeks.

"Not funny, Stefan," Damon growled. "Especially, since you're the one with a certain passion for Bon Jovi."

Lifting his hands apologetically, Stefan said, "At least you were having a good time."

Damon nodded. "Just wait for the second date."


	2. Bright Moon Rising

Tyler Lockwood opened the door to find himself confronted with whom he thought was soon going to be his new daddy – considering recent events, he was more afraid Damon Salvatore wanted to be his new aunt.

And the way he fluttered his eyelashes totally sold that.

"Hello, Tyler," Damon said sweetly. "Is your uncle at home?"

"One moment." Tyler slammed the door shut just as Damon opened his mouth to protest.

Next to a vase with flowers in the hallway sat a fluffy teddy bear. Mason had enthusiastically tried to gift it to Tyler – another sign that he still did not realise how old Tyler was by now. Tyler flashed the stuffed animal a disgusted glance as he walked past it. Just the attempt to push him back into the childhood, where he had always been waiting for a cool uncle bringing him gifts, deserved revenge. On top of this the whole "where is my moonstone"-thing and not wanting to bring Tyler into the loop annoyed him to the core. Mason totally had to be taught a lesson.

At the end of the corridor Tyler found Mason in his sportswear, ready to go for a jog. Tyler stayed behind the corner and watched his uncle leave through the back door. He smiled maliciously to himself, then returned to the front door.

Damon was waiting impatiently with his arms crossed and one foot tapping on the stairway.

"He just left to jog," Tyler told him. "In his short shorts and a tight muscle shirt." With a wink he brought confusion into Damon's face, but the frown could not cover the obvious desire he felt for Mason Lockwood. Damon would hurry after Mason as soon as the door was closed and annoy him until Mason needed the stupid teddy bear for comfort.

Tyler slammed the door shut and smirked.

* * *

The woods on the Lockwood grounds were huge and confusing, but Mason Lockwood seemed to have a destination. It was easy to follow him through the maze of trees, and it would have been as easy to stay in the shadows, but it was funnier to appear seemingly out of nowhere right in front of Mason.

Mason stopped, although not looking shocked. Damon waved at him.

"Hello, surfer boy," he greeted and could not help but take a quick look at Mason's shorts. He knew that Tyler-kid had made a bad joke about their shortness to tease Damon. Apparently, the rumour of a certain kiss spread like weeds in a small town like Mystic Falls.

"Damon." Mason gave him a quick once over. "What're you doing here?"

Damon shrugged. "Taking a little walk. Beautiful weather. The rays of the sun look mesmerising on your hair, by the way."

With a disgusted frown on his forehead, Mason ran a hand through his brown hair. "Thanks," he said and jogged past Damon, obviously trying to ignore him instead of beating him up for this behaviour. Damon was only a little disappointed.

"Hey!" Damon followed Mason, and that even though his jeans were far too expensive to get sweaty or dirty in the woods. "Where are you going?"

"That's none of your business," Mason hissed and sped up, attempting to lose Damon. An evidence that he was adorably stupid and did not realise that Damon was a vampire or something else, despite having not the slightest hint of bruises in his face anymore.

"So, you _are_ going somewhere?" Damon grinned at Mason, who finally slowed down.

"Jogging," he said pointedly. "I'm jogging. I like to do that alone, or at least not with someone in a leather jacket and jeans."

"Oh…" Damon's faked disappointment only made Mason roll his eyes. "We could head back to your mansion and you borrow me some of your short shorts."

Mason's eyes shifted skyward, almost like he was praying for help while taking a deep breath.

"Or you just show me around here," Damon suggested, looking from one tree to another, as if they were the most interesting things he had ever seen in his long, long life. "Where did you say you were going?"

"Why did you say you are here?"

"A _walk_," Damon said very slowly because Mason needed to know how stupid he was. Then he smiled. "My brother, his girlfriend and my history teacher friend are off to Duke University. Researching stuff. That leaves me alone and… bored. Until I remembered my new friend from the carnival." He pointed at Mason, only to receive a forceful scowl.

"Okay, I know what this is about," Mason said, but Damon doubted that he had suddenly discovered a small amount of remaining cerebral matter. "I'm sorry. My reaction to your advances was inappropriate. It's just that I'm not swinging this way and stalking me won't change that."

Damon frowned and felt the strong urge to tell Mason that their kiss had been anything but one-sided – at least for the glimpse of a second. But he only shrugged. "That's cool. Let's just forget about it." He reached out a hand, which was eyed sceptically by Mason.

Eventually, he shook Damon's hand.

"Okay, then… I show you around, yeah?" Mason grinned at him, filled to the brim with naïve stupidity. Damon could not believe that Stefan had made the effort of driving all the way to Duke to get information when it was way easier to regain Mason's trust. It was surely nothing but an excuse to spend the day with Elena and far away from him. The only victim in this was poor Alaric, who had made the mistake of bringing the more or less interesting topic up: lycanthropy.

"Sorry about your face," Mason said as they walked through the piles of fallen leaves. He looked at Damon's profile and finally seemed to get suspicious. "I didn't hurt you bad, apparently."

"No, you fight like a girl," Damon replied in an indifferent tone. He needed to scratch Mason's ego, after his own ego had been smashed because of Stefan's nerving need to burst into laughter whenever his big brother entered the room.

"Thanks," Mason said with a frown. He grabbed the sleeve of Damon's leather jacket and pulled him to the right. "Over here."

The old ruins of a staircase led below the ground. Damon remembered the old estate of the Lockwood family being located here. The cellar must have remained after the building burned to the ground. Mason headed over to the stairs, pulling Damon after him.

"My, that's romantic," Damon snarled when he entered the dark cellar. The distant sound of dripping echoing of cold stone walls enhanced the spooky atmosphere. Behind heavy doors of metal waited a corridor with the personal torture chamber of the Lockwoods. Bars and chains alone were not enough to make Damon feel uncomfortable, but that changed as he noticed the claw trails in the stone walls. Damon gulped.

So, that was the damage a possible werewolf could do. Scratching a stone wall. That was not frightening at all. Especially, when they locked themselves up, and Mason investigated the chains like he wanted to do exactly this. He was a kind-looking nice guy, who was a bit too stupid to be dangerous. Damon could have easily snapped his neck now and eliminate every possible danger, but then he would never learn more about this new supernatural power.

Damon moved to touch the claw trails on the wall. Mason grabbed his wrist, pushed him backwards and slammed him forcefully next to the traces of his ancestors. His elbow pressed against Damon's throat. The strength, the ability of holding Damon in this position, was still impressive. It could have been frightening if Damon had not been able to get rid of the hard, unyielding body with a simple push. Which he did not do.

"What're you up to?" Mason was close enough to annoy Damon with his inhumanly warm breath and body temperature. Turning his head away was not an option, although Damon was of course able to. It was merely impossible to show any sign of submission, so he pretended to be completely unfazed.

"You know something," Mason rasped. "Spit it out, Damon. I want to hear it."

Damon could not resist playing a little game with his fluffy werewolf. "I know that you want me."

Mason's eyes widened, but his grip stayed breathtakingly tight.

"My charm, my eyes, my way of speaking…" Damon smirked. "No one can resist me."

"Do you honestly think I'm going to believe that?"

"I know it must be confusing," Damon said in a soft voice. "But be sure that swinging over to me always assures you the possibility of swinging back again."

Mason frowned and tilted his head slightly. "Are you sure this is what I wanted to hear?" The way his eyes wandered back and forth between Damon's eyes and his mouth made clear that Mason wanted to hear _exactly_ this.

"You can't forget about my soft lips, can you, Mason?"

"You're such a narcissistic bastard," Mason said in a wolfish growl accompanied by that golden shimmer flaring up in his eyes. Damon expected a punch, a scratch with a similar outcome like the claw trails on the wall, or maybe even a bite, but he was completely stunned when Mason kissed him.

Instead of strangling him any longer, Mason framed Damon's face and deepened the kiss unexpectedly sensuously. Damon was hesitant to return the kiss. Mason's body pressed hard against, tightly enough to feel every pulsing vein and the erratic heartbeat, but most temptingly was the boiling blood.

Damon buried his hands in Mason's hair as he kissed back, no longer able to resist the increasing hunger. He pushed his hips forward, strong enough to whirl Mason around and change their positions. Now in full control of their kiss, Damon was able to recklessly devour Mason's mouth. His control over his hunger slowly but surely slipped away, and he was one step away from slamming his fangs in Mason's throat when his phone rang and saved Mason.

Damon pulled away, leaving Mason breathless. The panting noises escaping him sounded even more delicious when they echoed from the high stone walls. The look Mason gave him was something between desire and confusion, and Damon hoped that the only reason for it was their kiss and not the visible hunger in his eyes.

"It's my brother," Damon said after throwing a quick glance on his phone. "I better get out of here."

Mason just stood there, leaning against the wall, and stared after Damon. His heartbeat was faster than Damon's footsteps.

As soon as he left the cellar, Damon answered the phone: "I'm busy, Stefan."

"_With Mason Lockwood?"_

"Not in the mood for jokes." Damon walked away from the ruins. He did not know if his little werewolf had some sort of super sense of hearing.

Stefan did not sound amused. _"__Damon, __you __need __to __stay __away __from __him.__"_

"Isn't this a big brother phrase?" Damon asked, frowning.

"_Listen, it's the full moon tonight –"_

"Yeah, I know that. Big revelation of the furry secret waiting for me," Damon interrupted, already annoyed by his younger brother playing his protector. "You can tell Elena that I try to get killed, okay?"

"_Easier __than __you __might __think,__"_ Stefan replied dryly, then sighed in his usual worried way. _"__Damon, __according __to __the __legend, __a __werewolf __bite __can _kill _a __vampire.__"_

Damon gulped hard. Footsteps from behind made him turn around instead of answering Stefan. Mason stood near the entrance of the cellar and caught Damon's eyes. The right corner of his mouth curled slightly upwards into a smirk.

"_It's time to give up your obsession, Damon. This is too dangerous."_

Damon hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He grinned at Mason. "I need to go. Family emergency."

"Sure," Mason said and nodded. "I'll accompany you back."

"Yeah…" Damon turned his back to Mason and rolled his eyes. "Otherwise I might get lost in the woods. Like Little Red Riding Hood."

* * *

Tyler watched strangely fascinated how his uncle walked next to Damon Salvatore back to the mansion. It was a weird image by itself, but Tyler could not suppress his curiosity and wondered how weird the image inside that old cellar had been.

Leaving his hiding place behind a group of trees, Tyler headed towards the stairs that led into the cellar. It was dark, and he could barely see his environment, so he pulled out his phone to enlighten his way. It did not help much, but at a closer look he discovered chains. _Chains_.

"Kinky," Tyler said to himself. He took a picture of this blackmail-worthy hobby and wanted to hurry back home, when he noticed the claw trails on the stone walls.

That was a bit too kinky for humans…


	3. Escape Lane

A barbecue was the perfect opportunity to find out more about Mason Lockwood and his furry secret in a safe environment. At least that was what Alaric had thought, and it was the reason why he invited Damon. He did not want to humiliate him or destroy the last remaining piece of his extremely huge ego, because of some stupid kiss that scored first place in town gossip. Sadly, Damon thought exactly this when he saw Mason appearing in the doorway.

He pushed Alaric roughly into the living room, while Jenna took care of Mason.

"You invited _him_?" Damon grabbed Alaric's shirt tightly enough to strangle him, only loosening his grip when Alaric's words came out in a gasp. He did not let him repeat his answer, though. "I thought you were one of the good guys, Ric."

Alaric rubbed his sore throat. "That guy's a werewolf, Damon. I'm interested to find out more about _that_ and not about his sexuality. I thought you'd be swinging the same way."

Damon's eyes widened.

"I mean…" Alaric raised his hands in defence. "You wanted to know more about it."

"I don't want to kill him," Damon snapped.

"Fine," Alaric said. "Great, for once, you don't randomly kill everyone before talking to them. I support that. So, we return to our barbecue, and you two can talk. Maybe he'll reveal his motifs."

"Believe me," Damon growled. "If I stay, I'll drive a silver something right through Mason's heart."

"Someone saying my name?" Mason stepped into the living room, right behind Damon. He grinned, and as Damon turned around his smile flared up like a warm flame. Damon took a step backwards, as if he wanted to escape and seek shelter at Alaric's side. Never had Damon seemed more afraid like now, when confronted with Mason Lockwood's enamoured eyes.

"Damon." Mason reached out a hand, but Damon rejected him by crossing his arms.

"You know each other?" Jenna, innocent as always, peered over Mason's shoulder.

"Yeah, Damon gifted me a teddy bear at the carnival," Mason said.

Jenna flashed Damon a sceptical glance.

"Yes, it's such an interesting story, and I'd love to tell you every detail, Jenna," Damon said quickly, almost tripping over his words. "But I just got a call from Stefan. Family emergency. I need to go home."

The excuse was apparently the worst Damon could have chosen. Not only that Elena rushed into the living room just at the mention of 'Stefan' and 'emergency' in one sentence, but Mason did not seem very convinced either. Alaric knew that Damon would have surely tried to escape through a rabbit hole, if he had the chance. Only Jenna believed him.

"That's too bad," she said, and Alaric loved her for that.

* * *

Thirty minutes of peace at home before the doorbell rang.

Damon left his glass of bourbon to check who bothered him after such a horrible day.

It was Mason.

"For God's sake, why me?" Damon left the door open, turned around and walked back to his bourbon.

"I asked myself a similar question when you appeared in the woods." Mason joined him in the living room, but although he stared quite obviously at the couch Damon did not ask him to take a seat. "And now you've started avoiding me."

"I haven't avoided you. There's no reason to avoid you," Damon said with a shrug.

Mason nodded slowly and let his gaze travel through the room. "And where is that family emergency you were speaking of?"

The family emergency was downstairs in the cellar and talked to his brother. Damon had not expected to find a real emergency when he arrived thirty minutes ago. He was not in the mood to deal with Katherine at the moment, and in addition to that she always wanted to be all alone with Stefan – somehow, that fact still hurt. It would become even more troubled as soon as Elena could not take it anymore and came over to throw some more drama into the pot. All because of everyone's darling Stefan.

"It's solved, and it's also none of your business." Damon thought that Mason would surely not just leave again and poured him a glass of his precious bourbon. With a sweet smile he handed it over to Mason. "So, was poor Jenna's barbecue that boring, or did you just miss me?"

Mason emptied the glass in one sip. He licked over his lips and said, "The latter."

An answer that truly surprised Damon. He tried to drown this feeling by taking a large sip while flashing Mason a warning glance over the rim of his glass.

Whatever this visit was about, it was not because of Mason's sudden desire. Damon told himself to be careful. Werewolves were a whole new thing that he could not evaluate, and they scared him. The night of the full moon had been sleepless and full of uncommon paranoia. Mason had not come to kill him that night, and that earned him the required sympathy to stay alive. For now.

"Why are you like this?" Mason came closer and sat his glass on the table, then actually reached for Damon's.

Damon clutched to his glass. Mason seemed amused, but he did not know that the alcohol was the only thing that kept Damon from sucking every drop of blood out of him.

"Since when are you so obtrusive?" Damon replied. "Not long ago you punched me for being obtrusive."

"Well…" Mason shrugged, his smile not flickering for a second. "I've told you I'm sorry." He stepped closer. Damon took the last sip from his glass. It did not need Mason's glance to realise that it was time to put his glass away.

Mason grabbed Damon's wrist, demonstrating his strength once more while helping Damon to place the glass on the table. "You're afraid of me," he stated cleanly.

Damon narrowed his eyes. It would have been easy to withdraw his hand and break Mason's in return, but he did not.

"You know what I am," Mason continued. "And you're afraid of me."

Damon twisted his hand so that he was the one grabbing Mason's wrist. He tightened his grip until he could hear the bones cracking. "Maybe you should rather be afraid of me," he warned.

Mason did not seem impressed. He still looked forcefully at Damon, not even leering, but his blue eyes gleaming with something that could be curiosity. "I knew it," he said eventually. "You've played games with me. You've known all along."

"Your fault that you didn't took the opportunity to kill me," Damon said, unsure why he did not deny it any longer. Maybe he was curious what Mason was up to. Maybe he actually liked him, because he could not even bring himself to break his wrist.

"We don't need to be enemies."

Damon frowned at these words, but whatever he wanted to answer slipped away as Mason framed his face. He leant over, not even trying to be more subtle about his attempts.

"You shouldn't do that," Damon said, pretending to be unimpressed by the closeness of Mason's lips.

"Because you're a vampire?" Mason stayed close. His lips curled into a smile, and Damon felt every fucking movement. "I can smell it."

"So, you've known all along?" Damon did not know if he was impressed or angry. "Who's playing games now? Dangerous games, by the way. It's not the full moon. You're no match for me."

Mason did not take him serious, apparently. He pressed his lips to Damon's, kissing his lower lip softly.

"I could snap your neck within a second," Damon muttered, although he should just do it instead of merely talking about it.

"No risk, no fun," said Mason in a rushed whisper, pursing his lips again.

Damon denied him a kiss. He pushed him around and slammed him against the wall in the hallway – Mason finally seemed impressed, staring with wide eyes back into the living room. Fear might have been better, but Damon searched in vain for a hint of it. Respect, yes, but not fear.

"I could throw you out, using just one hand," Damon mumbled, but he was the only one glancing towards the door.

"If you wanted to throw me out, you would've already done it." Sadly, Mason had a point there. Maybe he was not as stupid as Damon thought, but that would be a reason more to throw him out – to snap his fucking neck! He just could not bring himself to while confronted with those blue eyes and ever-present smile.

"You are…" Damon stopped. The loud bang from the cellar even caught Mason's attention.

"What was that?" he asked.

"The family emergency apparently got on my brother's nerves." Damon grabbed Mason's collar and pulled him through the hallway.

"Wait, where…" Mason stumbled after him. "…are you going?"

"I'm not in the mood to deal with my brother." Damon threw Mason into his room and closed the door loud enough to assure that Stefan heard it. Katherine and her reason to come back was nothing he wanted to deal with. He never wanted to deal with her again. Not after everything she did and said to him.

"Why are you here?" Damon watched sceptically how Mason eyed his bed. "In Mystic Falls," he added pointedly as Mason waggled his eyebrows.

"My brother is dead," he said very slowly, as if Damon was the one with a brain in miniature size. "My nephew lost his father. It's a family emergency."

Damon walked over to Mason and pushed him away as he moved to sit down on the bed. "Your brother couldn't tell what I am."

"He never triggered the curse – as far as I know," Mason replied, strangely open about well-kept family secrets. Damon's bedroom seemed to make him more talkative.

"You have to trigger the curse? How?"

"Gods, do I have to answer these questions everywhere I go?"

Damon frowned.

"My nephew," Mason explained. "His curiosity almost got him killed when he followed me during the full moon, and he can't stop asking. I thought a nice barbecue would offer me some peace."

"Then you should've stayed at the barbecue. I heard Jenna planned to play Pictionary." Damon pointed at the door. It was by instinct. He did not want Mason to leave. Not with Katherine in the house, not with Stefan trying to pull him into this Siamese twins shit. He hoped Mason would stay. "You're free to go and do whatever you want."

"Good, then I want to stay here." Mason placed his hands on Damon's hips. No one ever touched him there in this way. No one in almost a hundred fifty years had dared to treat him like a stupid girl.

"You know," Damon started and pulled away from Mason's lips before they came too close, "I'm sorry you misunderstood my advances. We're trying to be honest with each other, so I have to tell you that I'm not interested."

Sadly, Mason's kiss proved him otherwise. It was terribly hard to resist him. Too soon, Damon allowed the kiss, returned and even deepened it.

That was definitely not good – it _felt_ good, but it was not a good idea. But after all, Damon was not a fan of good ideas.

He pushed Mason backwards and threw him forcefully on the bed. He did not want to act desperate, but it was temptingly easy to demonstrate his strength and rip Mason's shirt open, before yanking it off in one smooth motion. The revealed skin was warm and smooth under Damon's hands, just a bit too tanned for his taste.

Instead of running his hands over Mason's chest long enough to demonstrate too much interest, Damon pulled his own shirt over his head. As Mason reached for him, Damon shoved him back onto the mattress. He followed Mason and kissed him hungrily, spurred on by the intoxicating scent. It was rich and dizzying, even without the sour aroma of fear. It distracted him.

Damon was taken by surprise when Mason threw him around with inhumanly speed. His movements were rougher, the way he devoured Damon's mouth almost violent. He jerked Damon's trousers off and even shed his own without breaking the kiss.

Their hips pressed into each other, increasing arousal and heat to an overwhelming amount. Damon's lips wandered instinctively to Mason's throat, attracted by the erratically pulsing vein. His fangs scratched over the sensitive skin, and the small growl he elicited from Mason's throat only made it harder to stay in control of his steadily growing thirst.

Damon grabbed Mason's shoulders and rolled him onto his back. He reached for the other's legs, hoping to find distraction by spreading them, but Mason kicked his hand away.

"You wish," he groaned, grabbed Damon's hair in tufts and pulled him closer. He did not kiss him, only distracted him long enough to roll him over again.

Damon would not let this happen. He changed their positions hastily, almost causing them to fall out of the bed.

"Bite me," he said, pressing Mason's shoulders into the mattress.

Mason struggled playfully. "You get that next month if you do this."

And although it would have been so easy to kill him right now, Damon allowed Mason to free himself and get back on top. They kissed, and Mason continued rutting against him like the animal he was. It was like Damon could feel every single corpuscle trying to break free from the veins as he moved his hands over Mason's back. He rested his fingers on Mason's hips, then slid his hand around and got it between them.

Mason growled something incoherent, maybe a name, as he pushed into Damon's hand. He panted against Damon's jaw and brought his mouth close to Damon's ear, as if he wanted him to understand the name he repeated when he came. Damon shoved him with a smile over the edge, and joined him shortly afterwards just from the pressure of Mason's hips.

Breathing heavily, Mason made an attempt to bury his face in Damon's neck. For that Damon pushed him away. With Mason landing on his right side, Damon had enough room to stretch and cross his arms behind his head. For the first time, he actually noticed how fast his chest was moving, how out of breath he was, and how cold everything felt without that heavy body above him.

Damon grabbed the blanket and pulled it over his body. Mason made the mistake to crawl beside him, still wearing his annoying grin and radiating with unnatural warmth.

"Hey," Damon began, turning his head to face Mason. "How about werewolf-blood. Is that fatal to me, too?"

Mason's eyes gleamed as if he knew exactly that this fear was the only thing that kept Damon from biting him. "Dunno. You want to try it out?"

Damon searched for something else than amusement in Mason's face. "Nah… I don't trust you."

"You let everyone you don't trust in your bed?"

"This doesn't count," Damon said and hoped that his yawn emphasised his boredom and not that he was exhausted. Strangely enough, he wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep. With Mason by his side. With someone more reliable than Katherine. "I'm tired. You should probably go."

Outside, the sun was setting. The room was bathed in orange and red light, definitely favourable to Mason's tanned skin. Damon turned his back to him, before he started losing himself in the golden shimmer.

"Probably." Mason moved closer and dared to wrap his arm around Damon's torso.

Damon took a deep breath and tried to stay calm, even when Mason pressed a kiss to his neck. "What are you doing?"

"I'm playing the big spoon," Mason rasped into his ear. "You'll like it."

Damon groaned. "Whatever." He closed his eyes, but the annoying sound of Mason's heartbeat kept him awake. Even his steady breathing was distracting. It tickled his neck and caused embarrassing goosebumps.

He was not quite sure what was wrong with him. A werewolf – a disgusting surfer – in his bed. The whole Katherine-thing had really pushed him closer to insanity. The worst thing was that it felt alright, good, _new_ – and that after a hundred and fifty years. A werewolf, a surfer, a man with a probably kind nature – everything Katherine was not. Maybe it was good. Maybe it was worth a try. Maybe he should just stop thinking.

Damon pushed Mason off him with his elbow, then he turned around. Mason slept peacefully on his back. He looked delicious. Damon felt like someone had put a tasty cake in front of his nose.

He shifted closer, his hand searching for Mason's heartbeat. The rhythm was somehow soothing. Damon leant down and rested his cheek on Mason's chest. It was comfortable, better than his pillow, and he thought that he could finally fall asleep when he heard himself sighing in such a foreign way that it made him jump out of bed within a second.

"Not good," he said. For a moment, he stared at Mason, watched him remaining peacefully in the land of dreams. Damon put on his trousers and stormed out of the room.

He hurried into the living room and grabbed for the next best thing containing alcohol. Just when he lifted the bottle of bourbon to his lips, a cough from behind demanded his attention.

Stefan and Elena stood not far away from him and just finished one of their always too long embraces. Their identical looks said: Don't you earn a shirt?

Instead Stefan said, "Katherine just… escaped."

"You've been here all the time and didn't help Stefan?" Elena seemed shocked. "That's exactly what she wanted. That's why she kept me busy."

Damon ignored her babbling. "How can she just leave? The vervain –"

"She's immune," Stefan interrupted, shaking his head. "She tricked me. All the time. And I still don't know why she's here."

Damon rolled his eyes and put the bottle away. "Let me tell you why, Stefan," he said, approaching his brother and the girl he could never have. "Because she loves you. People want to spend time with the people they love. That's what it's all about."

Elena looked like she was in pain, her hands digging into Stefan's shirt.

Damon smiled sweetly. "I better go back upstairs. Katherine's your obsession now, Stefan. I have a new one."

He let Stefan and Elena exchange one of their serious glances and walked back into his room.

Only to find his bed empty.

* * *

The Mystic Grill had seemed to be the perfect place to cheer Jenna up after everyone left her barbecue. Alaric was actually successful until Damon entered the bar. Jenna's face darkened, and she emptied her glass in one sip.

"Let's go, Ric," she demanded, her eyes focusing on Damon, who slumped down on a stool at the counter.

Alaric hesitated. Damon looked horrible. He was a dick and surely deserved to feel this visibly miserable, but Alaric still felt pity. He touched Jenna's shoulder.

"Just let me talk to him for a second," he said.

Jenna sighed. "Fine, whatever. You're way too nice to him, Ric."

"Probably. But if it keeps him from randomly… uhm, doing something stupid." Alaric rewarded Jenna's innocent confusion with a smile, then walked over to Damon and sat down next to him.

Damon's eyes shifted to him and then back to his glass. He just stared into it.

"Okay," Alaric started, trying to sound calm. "I'll help you with the body."

Frowning, Damon looked at him. "I didn't kill Mason."

Alaric was positively surprised and wanted to verbalise that when Damon added, "Not yet."

The bartender shoved a drink over to Alaric; a sign that he had spent way too many evenings with Damon in this situation. He took a sip and waited for Damon to open up a little. It did not take long.

"You know… Mason Lockwood is a dick," Damon said. "He's an arrogant surfer, a snob, and such an ugly bastard. No one will miss him when I slash his pretty face from cheek to cheek. And then I'll be finally able to suck him dry."

Alaric turned his head slowly to Damon. The vampire he knew would have already done all that if the thought truly crossed his mind.

"I get so hungry just from looking at him," Damon muttered a bit absentmindedly. "It's weird. This werewolf-blood feels so hot, so… I wonder what it tastes like and if it's going to kill me…"

"I'm afraid I can't help you there," Alaric said, suppressing the weird urge to pat Damon's shoulder. Whatever Mason had done, it had hurt Damon. And Damon was dangerous when he was hurt.

Damon stared stubbornly at Alaric, more precisely at his throat. "You have a really pretty vein there, Ric."

"Yeah, and it's full of vervain."

Damon huffed. "That's too bad…"


	4. Kiss or Be Kissed

She waited for him outside the Mystic Grill, a small smirk on her lips to greet him.

"Hello, Damon," Katherine said.

He had tried to ignore her, but he simply could not. Slowly, he turned his head to her, mesmerizingly blue eyes sizing her up within a few seconds. It was awful that he could easily tear his gaze from her.

"I'm not having a good day. Make it short."

Katherine grabbed Damon's arm and pulled him along with her. "It's a beautiful night, don't you think so?"

"No." Damon's harsh tone amused Katherine.

"Don't tell me you're lovesick, Damon. You've been lovesick the last one hundred and forty-five years. Isn't it time to move on?"

"Believe me, I'm over you."

Katherine laughed softly. "You can't be in love with me for so long and then just turn that off within a blink."

She waited for an answer, but Damon just frowned, his eyebrows making a hard, straight line.

"I almost bought that Elena-thing. She at least looks like me," Katherine said. "But Mason Lockwood?"

"Was that what you did with Stefan in the cellar? Exchanging gossip?"

"You and your fluffy werewolf weren't exactly quiet."

Damon seemed even more annoyed than before. "He's not _my_ werewolf."

"Exactly." Katherine leant up to whisper into Damon's ear. "Because he's mine."

Damon looked at her, his face crumpled with anger and hate. He was covering pretty good that his wrath was not directed at her. He could not hate her. But Mason was easy to hate, and he was an easy victim without a full moon.

Katherine let go of Damon's arm. She watched contently as Damon stomped away and disappeared into the night.

This was going to be so much fun.

* * *

The Lockwood mansion was almost completely dark. There were lights in the living room. The TV was on, but it received hardly any attention from Mason. He sat on the couch and went through one box of old jewellery after another.

Damon stood directly behind him, remaining unnoticed for already ten minutes. He stared down at Mason's neck, not finding any marks of his teeth or kisses there. It was like they had never been together, like Damon did not even exist. This should be the trigger to finally snap Mason's neck.

Damon stayed hidden in the shadows.

Mason put the last box away and turned the TV off, yawning. He rose from the couch and stretched, the muscles in his back flexing with the movement. When he turned around, Damon had disappeared behind the curtains. He followed Mason, who walked into the hallway and picked up a stuffed animal that sat next to a vase.

Damon recognised the teddy bear. He could not help but finding it kind of adorable that Mason had kept the prize from the carnival.

Squeezed under his arm, Mason carried the teddy bear upstairs. If he planned to take the stuffed bear into his bed, the weirdness would definitely kill any hint of adorableness.

Mason stopped in front of a door with the name 'Tyler' on a plate. The door stood slightly open, a flash of light coming through the creak. Mason pushed it cautiously open, peered into the room and grinned to himself. He stepped into the room with Damon right behind him.

It was kind of sad that Mason did not notice him. Damon had thought a werewolf would be able to sense him – or smell him, like Mason had called it.

The room was extremely tidy for a seventeen year-old boy, but then again the Lockwood's surely had someone cleaning for them. On the huge bed lay Mason's nephew, sleeping peacefully with his head pillowed on a sketchbook instead of one of the many cushions. Mason pulled the sketchbook from underneath Tyler's cheek and picked the pen up from the mattress. He looked at whatever Tyler had doodled before putting the book on the bedside table. Then he moved to pull the blanket over Tyler and covered him probably.

Damon was already surprised to find out about such a not-Lockwood-like hobby, but watching Mason playing the caring uncle almost swept him off his feet. Whenever the belief that Mason was a bastard had settled, something like this turned him into the good guy. And he was so damn good-looking. No one could hate him.

"Goodnight, Tyler," Mason said in a low voice, ruffling his nephew's hair. Then he shoved the teddy bear into Tyler's arms. Smiling in his sleep, Tyler closed his arms around the stuffed animal and hugged it tightly.

Mason pressed a hand to his mouth to suppress his laughter, simultaneously pulling out his phone. He took a picture of Tyler and the teddy bear, whispering, "Definitely blackmail-worthy."

Damon had to admit that he liked this attitude more than the loving uncle.

He left the room before Mason even turned around. Seconds later, a mischievously grinning Mason Lockwood stepped into the hallway. He walked to a door at the end of the corridor. It had to be his room, not just a guest room, because when Damon followed him he entered a room that might not have screamed Mason at him, but it whispered it gently. The corners, the little details, the lack of cultural objects like books; all things that looked like they made a stupid surfer feel comfortable.

"Are you waiting for me to take my shirt off?" Mason asked suddenly.

Damon was surprised for a second. He tried to cover that and kicked the door shut. The darkness and shadows embracing a vampire were normally enough to make girls cry and boys beg for their lives, but Mason had never showed any fear and that did not change now.

"You're a bad stalker, Damon," Mason said.

"And you are a jerk. I understand that you treat annoying girls like that, but me? _Hello_?" Damon had not planned to sound so angry. He had wanted to be cool and predatory, scaring Mason until he was sobbing his apologies before he admitted his connection to Katherine.

"Oh, no… Don't tell me I've hurt you…" Mason pressed a hand to his mouth, pretending to be shocked and touched. "I'm so sorry. I never even thought about your feelings. All I wanted was to show you that I can play games, too. Actually, I'm pretty awesome at stupid games."

"So, you're trying to say that you've only been on a trip of vengeance?"

Mason shrugged.

"You cheated on your wannabe girlfriend out of revenge?"

Eventually, Mason lost his casual attitude. His tanned face hardened, the lines the sun left becoming visible in the shadows of his room. He had not expected that topic being addressed.

"Katherine," Damon said. "I know her. Very well. For a very long time."

"Still, you're surprised that she chose a stupid surfer," Mason said, imitating something that should probably be Damon's voice and his gesture – but he never did such an annoying eye-flare thing.

"No, not really," Damon drawled, trying his best not to make that sound like a compliment. "I'm surprised you're stupid enough to fall for her. She's always playing games. She's the gamester, and you're nothing but a pawn."

Mason's own eye-flare thing was not annoying; it was enticing, watching his blue irises swallowed by golden flames. Damon had apparently spent too much time to provoke exactly this. Like Stefan had joked, the yellowish iris made his heart beat faster.

"Don't you dare," Mason warned.

Damon got angry himself as he heard these words. "Don't you want to see it?"

"I don't want to hear such depreciation!" Mason barked at him. He seemed ready to jump at Damon, his face red and the vein on his temple pulsing fiercely.

"I could tell you things about Katherine you wouldn't even dream about. She's a selfish bitch, Mason," Damon said, trying hard to sound convincing instead of furious. "Whatever she told you is not true. She's here to ruin my brother's girlfriend's life, that's it. And you're following her like a lost puppy. Don't think you're more to her. Katherine trains the puppy, so that the full-grown wolf will do whatever she says."

"She's here because of _me_," Mason said between clenched teeth. "To help me."

Damon laughed. He did not even try not to, because it was so hilarious –and adorably naïve. "Oh, come –" He never finished the sentence. Mason lunged at him and threw him against the wall. His eyes glowed in the dark, pinning Damon to the wall like a butterfly to the cardboard.

"Don't you dare," Mason growled more than he said the words.

Despite being strangled, Damon answered calmly, "Katherine never does anything for anyone but herself. Why would she do anything for _you_?"

Mason looked hurt, hopefully because of Damon's disparaging emphasis – or even better, because he knew the truth.

"Because she loves me."

Damon rolled his eyes as all of his hopes were kicked out of their newly built nest. He pushed Mason away, not paying attention to his power and throwing him across the room. Thanks to the werewolf-powers, Mason landed on all fours without smashing anything.

"She doesn't love you," Damon snapped angrily. "She never loved _anyone_. She can't. Not in the way normal people define love. I probably love you more."

Mason blinked and every spark of yellow in his eyes disappeared. He rose to his feet, staring doubtingly at Damon. Then he suddenly stood right in front of him, still eyeing him warily up.

Damon grimaced. "I didn't mean that I –"

Mason kissed him, obviously not wanting to hear those words. Damon kissed back, not wanting to think about them any longer. The soft lips and their contrarily vigorous movements were the perfect distraction from all the trouble Katherine caused.

Realising something, Damon shoved Mason brutally away. "No, no, no…" He pointed a warning finger at Mason, who lay confused and disoriented on his bed. "You won't distract me again. I'm only here to tell you about Katherine and, after you've realised what an idiot you are, to snap your neck. Finally."

Mason sat straight again, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "I'm not an idiot," he said, but did not let Damon correct him. "I know she's up to something. I don't trust her, but that doesn't change the fact that I want to."

Damon glanced away. Mason's face, full of sweet memories containing Katherine, was like a stake through the heart. "Tell me what she's up to."

Mason's stare still felt heavy, even when Damon kept avoiding it. "Who says that I can trust _you_?"

"No one," Damon said annoyed. "I'm not trustworthy."

Mason actually chuckled at his. When Damon looked at him, he was shaking his head in amusement.

"Strange, but I think I do trust you, kind of."

"See, you're an idiot," Damon muttered, walked over to Mason and rewarded this adorable stupidity with a kiss. He could not help it. He was not one of these guys that threw a puppy back into the rain just because it tried to shed his trousers.

"She wants to –"

"Not now," Damon growled into the kiss. The heat of Mason's body made him insane for too long and now, as he pressed him onto the mattress, it warmed his dead body in a way no human could. It overwhelmed his body and crawled into his mind, making his brain numb and his heart pulsing with arousal.

When Mason rolled him around, the heat started cutting at his lungs, making Damon feel claustrophobic. The weight of the other body and the hard chest pressing against his should not make him feel like this. As Mason's hand slipped under his shirt, his muscles went limp at once. He heard himself gasping into Mason's mouth, and then his lips were abandoned just like that.

"Carol's going to kill me," Mason muttered, but although he sat up he did not withdraw his hands from underneath Damon's shirt. "She's so conservative."

Damon did not protest, because Mason would definitely not take off his shirt if he really cared about his sister-in-law. He wanted this just as badly as Damon. It was surely his way to apologise. It was Damon's way to apologise. He liked the way Mason made him feel too much to risk losing him. The feeling, so vividly warm, touched all the dead parts inside of him, reminding him of something he recently started missing more than anything in the world, despite of willingly throwing it away.

Mason's kiss seared his lips, and the trail his tongue left on his throat felt like a stream of lava. He opened Damon's shirt, planting the hot kisses on his shoulders, collarbone and chest. At the same time, he unbuckled Damon's belt and unzipped his trousers.

Damon bit on his lip as he grinned automatically. Mason's mouth closed around him, the unnatural heat centering on his sensitive skin. He reached his arms out and grabbed the pillow behind his head, holding tightly to it. A moan tried to escape him. Damon bit hard on his lip to swallow it; he tasted his own blood in the moment when he wanted to drink Mason's. The coppery liquid did not help satisfying his thirst, and the wound healed too soon to try it harder.

When he reached his climax, his last remaining piece of control slipped away. He let go of the pillow, tossing it off the bed in the process, and grabbed Mason's shoulders. He threw him on the back and attacked his throat. His teeth already punctured the tanned skin when Mason slammed his elbow into Damon's chest.

Coughing, Damon fell on his back.

"Mood killer," Mason said dryly. He made an attempt to get up and crawled to the edge of the bed. Damon stopped him immediately by wrapping his arms around Mason's waist.

"Sorry." He quickly pressed soothing kisses on Mason's neck until he felt the tensed muscles relaxing. "I'll make it up to you," he promised, shoving his hand into Mason's pants.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mason mumbled, sounding anything but convincing. Panting softly, he leant back and let his head rest on Damon's shoulder. "I don't like it if you pretend to be… sweet." But he did not try to get away, obviously enjoying the quick strokes of Damon's hand. He was even to distracted to feel Damon nibbling on his neck. Only softly, of course.

Although it turned out to be incredibly hard not to bite him with Mason's body getting warmer and warmer the closer he came to his climax. Damon just did not want to lose his personal source of warmth. Mason pushed one last time into his hand before he melted against Damon's chest.

Grinning, Damon pulled his mouth from Mason's neck. The corner of his mouth dropped at the sight of the tiny bite marks disappearing within seconds. Not allowing his mood to darken, Damon nestled his cheek against the crook of Mason's neck. He listened to his pulse, something he could have done forever.

Then it was Mason's turn to kill the mood. "She said she'd help me to break the curse. I'm not a werewolf for a long time, but… I don't want to go through this any longer. I don't want to be a monster."

Damon had forgotten that some people opened up in bed. "I know that feeling." Apparently, he was one of those people, too.

Mason touched his arm. At first, Damon thought this was an attempt to offer him comfort he did not want, but then Mason just broke Damon's embrace. He shed his trousers and moved under the blanket, his back facing Damon. He looked different; his strong, muscular body could not hide the hint of vulnerability. Damon wished he knew how to offer him comfort.

"I've been a vampire since 1864," Damon said. "Katherine turned me. She toyed with my brother and me for ages, then disappeared out of my life without giving a damn about my feelings. And my feelings lasted one hundred and forty-five years. I would've done anything for her, and she just doesn't care. What I want to say is that she surely doesn't care about you, too. She will not help you."

After weaving himself in silence for a while, Mason slowly turned around. "Simultaneously?"

Damon raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"You and your brother? At the same time?" Mason shrugged with a sigh. "That's actually kind of disgusting."

Damon slapped him on the shoulder. "_You_ are disgusting."

"Shall I show you how disgusting I can be?" Mason dared to wink at him and received another slap for that. He returned it and engaged Damon in a playful tossing match, just wrestling him down as the door opened.

"Mason, why's that fucking teddy bear in my – woah!" Tyler stood in the door, the teddy bear shaking in his fist. With wide eyes he stared at Damon, buried under Mason and barely covered by the blanket. Tyler shuddered. He threw the teddy bear at Mason and slammed the door shut. "I haven't seen anything," he called through the door, followed by the sounds of quick footsteps.

"Great, he already doesn't want to be alone in the same room with me," Mason groaned.

"Understandable," Damon smirked. "You're full of incestuous thoughts."

Mason's hand quickly enclosed his throat, but instead of strangling Damon he leant forward to kiss him. Damon smiled against the other lips.

"Why do you need his sympathies?" He framed Mason's face to hold him close. The topic was apparently bothering him heavily, because his eyes hardened like steel. "Mason, I bet I can help you. Katherine's not some kind of special vampire. Whatever she can do to break the curse, I can do it, too, and even with more style."

Mason's smile celebrated a heart-warming comeback. "You're probably right… I'm going to tell you everything I know."

Damon pulled Mason into a long kiss. His heart danced in his chest, screaming victory. He could not wait to tell Katherine whose fluffy werewolf Mason was now…

* * *

She waited for him in her car, fingers tipping on the steering wheel.

"Hello, Mason," Katherine said. "You got the moonstone?"

Mason looked dishevelled, like he just got out of bed – and that in the middle of the night. His eyes, though, gleamed with something Katherine had last seen at their first date. A good sign. Lately, she had come to doubt Mason's feelings for her, fearing that he might have noticed how bored she was with him.

"No," he said, sounding exhausted.

"Your house can't be that huge, Mason," Katherine snapped, unable to hide her annoyance any longer. "The moonstone is there. Find it."

"I know that it's there… I think I know who has it, but…" Mason sighed and started rubbing his temples.

"But what?" Katherine touched his wrist and pulled his hand into hers. "Don't you want to break the curse anymore?"

Mason did not answer.

"You put us both in danger. Do you want that?" She squeezed his hand. Mason looked at her and had to fight the best pleading look Katherine could present. "We could be happy. Forever. No more risks. Don't you want that anymore?"

Mason stared stubbornly into her eyes. Katherine began to feel uneasy and withdrew her hand.

"What's wrong?"

"A friend of mine," Mason began hesitantly. "She told me our kind could smell lies. She constantly told me you would be lying."

Katherine could not cover her anger. "I know who you're talking about. And she was just jealous, Mason, nothing more."

Mason chuckled. He was way too confident to show his amusement next to a vampire, who could rip him to pieces in the next moment. Actually, that was what she used to like about him. The complete lack of fear.

"I'll get the moonstone," Mason said and reached for the door. He pushed it open and noticed Katherine's smile in the side mirror. "But not for you."

Katherine was shocked. Mason slammed the door shut and caused her to cringe with the loud bang. Confused and speechless, Katherine grabbed the steering wheel as if it was the only thing keeping her from falling into a bottomless hole.

"Damon," she hissed like a snake ready to attack. "You're going to pay for that."


	5. Plan A

Mason woke to the weird feeling of short hair tickling his throat. Damon was drooling on his shoulder – not literally drooling, but it looked like he had tried to eat him. Again. Rolling his eyes, Mason pulled Damon's arm from his chest and shoved the vampire away to get up.

When he eventually made it to the kitchen, he wished he would have stayed in bed.

Tyler made himself a sandwich, whistling innocently to himself. He stopped when Mason entered the kitchen, but did not look at him even after Mason leant next to him against the kitchen counter.

"Don't you think that's too much meat?" Mason grabbed the ham from Tyler's sandwich and shoved it into his mouth. Tyler scowled at him. "Shorry." Mason swallowed the ham and licked his fingers. Then he grabbed the new slice of ham Tyler had smashed on his sandwich. "I know, I'm an animal," he grinned before filling his mouth once again with delicious meat.

"Okay, come on, just because I walked in on you and your boy toy doesn't give you the right –"

"He's not my boy toy," Mason clarified, then motioned for Tyler to go on.

"What's he then?" Tyler asked, confused. "The Romeo to your Juliet? The Rhett that sweeps your Scarlett of her feet? Or is it some kind of Edward and Becca thing?"

Mason grabbed the rest of Tyler's sandwich. "I think that girl's name is Bella."

"Shouldn't be surprised that you know that, fag." Tyler snatched the sandwich back, only to throw it into the bin. "Did you know that he had a date with Mum once?"

"I'm still busy trying to swallow my anger. Normally, I kill people that call me… the f-word."

Tyler simply ignored him. "You should've seen her. After all these years somebody finally showed interest in her. I mean, I knew it was only a charity auction, but… That guy was hanging around here all the time lately. I thought he could be _her_ boy toy."

"Aw… That's so cute, Tyler." Mason moved to pat his nephew's shoulder.

Tyler's hand stopped him. "Dude, feel the room."

"That's mature and cool of you, Tyler?" Mason tried, but that did not soften Tyler's expression. "Look, I just wanted to talk to you. Last night was hard for me. I just needed someone to… distract me. I've never wanted to drag you into this."

"Great." Tyler pulled something out of his trouser pocket. "Because I don't want to have anything to do with your shit." He slammed a milky-coloured stone on the kitchen counter, then stomped into the hall and apparently out of the house.

Mason cringed with the noise of the front door closing with a loud bang. He picked the moonstone up and stared at it, waiting for the expected wave of joy to come over him.

It did not.

* * *

From a safe distance, Damon watched Mason carrying one chair after another into the garden. There was another charity event taking place at the Lockwood mansion. Damon was not there to help – Stefan pretended to be, but actually he was busy staring at Elena and faking some stupid fight to keep Katherine from doing stupid things. Damon was busy staring at Mason and faking his disinterest. He did not manage that for a long time.

"May I help you?"

Mason carried two chairs – that had to be an invitation. Damon grabbed one and pulled it from Mason's hand, beaming brightly. Mason grimaced more than he smiled.

"Sure," he said and walked to the white tents that stood in the garden. The view over the Lockwood grounds was very nice, and the lake screamed for a romantic walk hand-in-hand. Too bad that there were too many people around for Damon to risk disgracing himself like that.

"What's that?" Mason put his chair on the meadow and sized Damon up. His eyes focused on Damon's chest.

"That's the muscled pillow you denied last night," Damon said with a wink.

"I mean the shirt." Mason plucked Damon's shirt from his torso. "A grey henley? Where's your common black shirt?"

Damon slapped Mason's hand away before his shirt became baggy. "If you don't like it, get rid of it."

"I'm quite busy." Mason heartlessly rejected him and walked back to search more stuff he could carry around. "Did Carol catch you this morning?"

"I'm a vampire. I can sneak out without the walk of shame," Damon snapped. Mason flashed him a grin, before he thrust a box filled with something into Damon's hands. He took another one himself and walked back to the tent.

Damon caught Stefan looking at him full of amusement as he followed Mason like a lovesick teenager. And he was definitely too old for that. He glared at his brother and caught up to Mason.

"Alaric –"

"Your history teacher friend?"

"Yes, my history teacher friend. He brought me some information about the moonstone this morning," Damon said to Mason, who looked rather uninterested. "As we already know, the legend says that once upon a time vampires and werewolves used to run freely until some shaman cursed them. Since then, werewolves can only turn on a full moon and vampires cannot walk in the sun."

"A shaman?" Apparently, Mason did not know every detail of that story. He frowned deeply.

"Yeah, and the moonstone is the key to break the curse," Damon said. "And ta-da! I already found a way to get your pretty little moonstone."

He waited in vain for some reaction; even a not-so-enthusiastic one would have made him happy.

"More precisely, I found _someone_ who can get the stone. Your nephew has it, and –"

"I know that," Mason said. "But I don't want Tyler to be dragged into this."

"He won't. Accept he clings to that stupid stone," Damon drawled, a little taken aback by Mason's behaviour. "I thought you'd be happy to hear that. Something wrong?"

Mason took a deep breath. He slammed his box on a table and reached for Damon's. Instead of giving Damon an answer he started unpacking the decorative stuff. Candleholders and blankets, which he placed quite randomly on the table. Luckily, Damon had better taste and was in the mood to help. While redecorating the objects, he waited for Mason to open up, but hardly managed to maintain patience for a couple of minutes.

"Tyler made a scene, right? That's why you asked about Carol and –"

"Why would Katherine help me break a curse that would make her _stay_ vulnerable to the sun?"

Damon blinked at that sudden outburst. "Well, her necklace protects her. Like my ring." He showed said ring to Mason, who only flashed it a quick glance. Interest was still not even growing. Mason seemed not to care about the curse at the moment.

"She never wanted to help me," Mason said, as if he just realised that. Damon wondered why he wasted the last night with talking if none of the things remained in Mason's small brain. "And she doesn't need to break the curse. There's certainly more to it."

"My, I start to like you, Mason," Damon said, amused. "Katherine's always up to something. And it's never good for anyone but herself."

Mason's crooked smile made Damon suspicious. Maybe he was not the lovesick teenager here…

Damon tugged at Mason's sleeve, trying to get his attention. Mason shook him off. With a huff, Damon sneaked up to him and wrapped his arms around Mason from behind.

"You're not in a good mood. How can I change that?"

"By taking your hands off me," Mason hissed between clenched teeth. "People start looking."

Unimpressed, Damon brushed his nose over the line of Mason's neck. "You're not embarrassed by me, are you?"

"Look, this is a conservative town," Mason said uneasily and grabbed Damon's arm, keeping him from moving his hands lower and into the wrong places. "You're a nice distraction. I don't deny that. But…"

Damon waited for the 'but', which turned out to be a shrug. No one dismissed Damon Salvatore with a shrug. There had to be more to this.

"You seem way too happy to see me to get away with this excuse," Damon smirked.

"That's my hip, Damon."

Frowning, Damon fumbled his way into the pocket of Mason's trousers. "What do you have in there, then?"

Once again, Mason tried to pull Damon's arm away. His effort was impressive, but his strength was not comparable to Damon's. Shoving his hand deep into Mason's pocket, Damon grabbed whatever he apparently should not see.

"Feels like a stone," he guessed with a stiff smile, then pulled said stone from Mason's pocket. It was a flat, somehow translucent stone in the shape of an egg. "Looks like soap."

Mason sighed, but did not try to retrieve the stone.

"Since when do you have it?" Damon asked, silently fighting the disappointment that grew inside of him, because Mason had not wanted to share this with him.

"Tyler gave it to me this morning." Mason looked around, as if he was more worried someone would listen to them now than discovering a dirty, but not-so-secret secret. "Can we please not talk about this here? If your brother can hear us, then other people could, too. Hey, Stefan."

Damon turned around. On the other side of the garden, Stefan lifted a hand to wave at them.

"I'll tell him anyway. You shouldn't care about that little voyeur," Damon said, pointing Stefan's rudeness out. It looked like Stefan did not really care for a change. He stared quite obviously over to them, listening to every word.

"I don't care about your brother. I know that you two have a weird relationship."

Damon frowned, accompanied by Stefan's confused shrug. "Katherine's not here," he said, hoping to change the topic.

"Are you sure? She could be hiding behind that bush." Mason pointed behind Damon's shoulder and immediately took advantage of Damon's attention drifting to some bush to retrieve the moonstone. He let it slip back into his pocket.

"I don't mind that hiding place," Damon said, smirking.

Mason smiled. "I have a better hiding place."

"Show me," Damon demanded, not expecting any resistance.

"Nah… Not at the moment. I'm busy." Mason shrugged and went back to find some more boxes to carry around.

Damon was more than a little perplex. "What? You honestly think one of those countless charity events is more important?" He walked after Mason, who neither stopped nor slowed down for him.

"The Masquerade Ball was my brother's favourite event of the year," Mason explained as soon as Damon walked beside him again.

"This is a _ball_?"

"I need to help as good as I can. For my brother." Mason shoved another box into Damon's hands, grabbed one himself and walked to a tent that was too far away to call this helping and not working. "Also, I need to make sure Tyler understands that I'm not here to ruin his life."

"What did that kid say to you?" Damon knew that there was more to this. Mason was not the loving uncle he pretended to be. He appeared more like the irresponsible younger brother, who lived the life he wanted in the shadow of his dutiful brother.

"He… uhm…" Mason chuckled, aiming for one of the last empty tables under the tents. The table with the alcohol was sadly still very far away. While Damon stared longingly at it, Mason tried to take the place of his dutiful brother and unpacked the boxes. "Tyler wasn't exactly happy about us fooling around."

Damon nodded indifferently. He pulled his eyes from the alcohol and searched a place for his box. He did not find one. Luckily, Mason freed him from the undesired load.

"I think he compared us to 'Gone with the Wind'."

Damon grinned. "Nice. I love that book."

Mason looked at him as sceptically as Damon felt at the thought of Tyler Lockwood knowing something of cultural significance.

"Right…" Mason finished unpacking the box – once again leaving a horrible mess on the table. Damon could not help but fixing it. "Anyway… Tyler's having a hard time. His father's dead, the knowledge that he could turn into a creepy monster scares him, and apparently he thought you were having a thing for Carol."

"Hey, Carol's a great woman," Damon insisted. "A bored, neglected wife that yearns for the affection of a handsome young man. Mhm, those women are like wine. The longer they are locked up in the cellar, the better they taste."

Mason's expression told Damon that this was probably not a common opinion. But there was also something else in his eyes, not the obvious werewolf-rage, but subtle anger tainting his blue eyes.

"You're not… I mean, you didn't… with her…"

"Aw, look who's jealous." Damon reached out to pinch Mason's cheek, but his hand was slapped away before he could so. Mason enclosed his wrist and pushed Damon back against the table, pressing against him with a kissable smile on his lips.

"You wish," Mason muttered, but avoided Damon's pursed lips in the last second. He had focused on something behind Damon's shoulder, something that made him take a step back. Damon looked over his shoulder, but in the crowd of people he could not discover what or who had caused this reaction.

"I'm worried about Tyler."

Of course it had to be this stupid boy ruining the moment. Damon noticed Tyler talking to Elena on the stairs to the mansion.

"I don't want him ending up like me. I should've never told him," Mason said, shaking his head. "Look at him! He already thinks I'm only here for that stone, and now he's desperate enough to talk to Elena!"

"You're such a jealous guy, Mason." Damon slapped painfully on Mason's shoulder and rested his hand there to sooth the throbbing spot. "Although you have the perfect shoulders to cry on," he said, curling his fingers into claws. He regained Mason's attention as he dug his fingers into the warm flesh underneath the shirt, and this time it seemed that he was successful in pulling Mason closer.

Their lips almost met when Mason had to ruin everything.

"I can't. I feel like everyone's staring at me," he mumbled, while reaching over Damon's shoulder and pretending to fix the decoration Damon had turned into pure perfection.

"Fine…" Damon pushed Mason away and smoothed his grey henley under Mason's amused eyes. "Do you have a date for that Masquerade Ball? Because we could totally spend that night in your room."

Mason laughed and waved dismissively at Damon, as if he was one of those neglected married women, who just received a compliment. "I'm busy," was the only answer Damon got.

Married women were definitely less complicated.

"Oh…" Already on his way back to his beloved boxes, Mason stopped and turned around. He pulled the moonsoap out of his pocket and threw it at Damon, who snapped it out of the air. "Give me that back at seven. That's when I'm still busy with my tie." He winked at Damon before he left.

Damon stared after Mason, then looked at the stone. Mason had told him that he had a good hiding place for it, so why did he leave it with the not trustworthy vampire?

"He seems to trust you."

Damon closed his fist around the moonstone. "Stefan, you can't scare me."

Stefan stepped in front of Damon, with his usual brooding expression and his hands buried deep in his pockets. He tried for a smile, but he looked way too serious to sell that. "He gave you the mysterious moonstone not because you spent one and a half night with each other. I think he trusts you."

"Uh, and that's a bad thing. No one should trust the personification of evil." Damon pointed at himself, but Stefan did not seem to find that funny. By now, Damon started to miss the version of his baby brother that laughed at him. "I kind of like this, actually. That he trusts me, talks about his problems with me, all the stuff you don't. Because without me, it would be us against Katherine _and_ her werewolf."

Stefan did not show if this comment scratched his ego. "Damon, are you sure of this?"

Damon was not sure if he understood what Stefan meant. "Well… He's definitely my favourite Lockwood. Richard was a bastard, Tyler's too young, and George… Gods, I hated George." He shook his head, reminiscing his human days for a while.

Stefan had to pull him back into reality. "I don't think this is to our advantage. Katherine must be mad. She gets even more dangerous when she's mad."

Damon narrowed his eyes. He shoved the moonstone into his pocket. "You're just jealous, Stefan. Just stop faking a fight, then there's no reason for Elena to throw herself at the next best guy."

Stefan frowned. Damon had to turn him around to show him the view of Elena and Tyler blowing the dust of some really old friendship. It was kind of disgusting to watch Elena patting Tyler's broad shoulders, as if she actually wanted to hug his heart. Stefan had to burn with jealousy, because Damon was definitely feeling a spark in his chest.

"Elena is with Bonnie."

They shared a look that said everything. This girl was not Elena.

Stefan stormed forward and was the first at Katherine's side. Damon followed in a normal pace and separated Tyler and Katherine by walking straight between them.

"Elena, I was looking for you," Stefan greeted, over-emphasising the name to make clear what he knew. Katherine immediately pursed her lips and crossed her arms in a pouty way. The only one still innocently oblivious was Tyler. He looked rather angry, though, especially when Stefan gave him a nod.

"Hey, there," Damon said nonchalantly, and immediately, Tyler's entire hate focused on him. There was a vein on his forehead visibly pulsing. "Oh, don't worry, Tyler. I don't like you, too. I never like anyone at first sight."

Tyler's anger turned into confusion. He looked back at Stefan and Katherine. "I thought you two broke up?" he asked with a look that accused Stefan of being a dangerous murderer – although the true danger was Katherine.

"Well, we're in limbo," Stefan said, smiling.

Tyler looked at Katherine. "Are you okay?"

Katherine wanted to shake her head, but behind her back Damon grabbed the strands of long hair and kept her from doing so. "Yes," she answered stiffly. "But it was really nice talking to you today. I see you tonight, okay?"

"I live here, so…" Tyler shrugged, then turned to leave but hesitated when he caught Damon looking at him. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but in the end he only returned the nod he'd received earlier from Stefan.

As soon as he walked away, Katherine freed herself from Stefan and Damon and turned to face them. She kept her arms crossed.

"I must be a horrible actor," Katherine said, sighing disappointedly.

"No," Damon replied. "It's the cleavage. Not Elena's style."

Stefan gave him a warning glance.

Katherine smiled, obviously flattered. "Thank you, Damon. Sooner or later you had to remember the benefits of a woman."

Stefan did not allow Damon to answer. "What are you doing here, Katherine?"

Her smile dropped at one side. She started playing with a straight strand of hair, curling it around her finger as she glanced back and forth between the two brothers. "Well, since Damon stole my werewolf, I'm going to make me a new one."

"No." Damon lifted a warning finger to Katherine's indifferent face. Then he realised what he was doing and how weird Stefan looked at him for that. Damon focused on Katherine. "Why do you need a werewolf?"

"Why do you need one?" Katherine lifted her shoulders, as if she did not know her own reasons. "Just keep in mind that I always have a plan B." She turned on her heels and headed away, leaving Damon alone with a once again quite amused looking Stefan.

"What?" Damon snapped.

"You felt protective. Over Tyler Lockwood." Stefan chuckled, felt guilty about it and cleared his throat to get rid of his amusement. "We should keep an eye on him, though."

"Who's feeling protective now?" Damon grunted, and for once, he was glad that Stefan was drowning in his seriousness.

* * *

Mason walked over the grounds with a weird mixture of excitement and anxiety. He had finished unpacking the last boxes and headed to the truck that stood in front of the building. More tables were kept inside it and besides him no one wanted to carry them around. A girl stood next to the truck. A girl that looked like an exact replica of Katherine.

Elena.

"Oh, hi!" She greeted him by waving her hand. "Do you mind helping me with those?"

"Yeah, sure." Mason reached out a hand, pretending as if he did not remember this face better than anyone else's. "Elena, right? We've met at Jenna's barbecue."

Elena nodded and took Mason's hand. In the next moment, she whirled him around and slammed him against the side of the truck, so forcefully that his back left a dent behind. She easily lifted him off his feet by only using one hand. Her long fingernails dug into his throat. Fingernails that he remembered leaving deep scratches on his back.

"Katherine," he choked.

Katherine's smile was anything but sweet and kind, hence giving her immediately away. "Needed a little more time, Mason. I'm disappointed. Where's that epic love now?"

Mason was running out of breath. He hardly cared for the most epic love affair at the moment.

"Or are you waiting for the new prince of your dreams?" Katherine smirked when Mason started to struggle against her grip, mostly with his legs that dangled in the air. "Too bad that he's distracted. Damon actually thinks I'd let you go that easily and settle on someone else."

Mason struggled harder, but even his voice had stopped fighting. Still, if Katherine dared to pull Tyler into this, he would find a way to kill her.

"I'm not hurt that you left me, Mason. I never loved you." Then, without even batting an eyelash, Katherine thrust something sharp into Mason's stomach. He gasped. All air was punched out of his lungs and instead a burning sensation filled his body.

Black spots appeared in front of his eyes, covering Katherine's smiling face. Mason slumped forward as soon as she loosened her grip. Katherine did not catch him, merely watched him crash onto the ground and then rolled him over with the tip of her boot.

"But that doesn't change the fact that you are and will always be my plan A," Katherine said sweetly.

Mason should probably feel flattered, but his view turned black, and he passed out without feeling more than pain.


	6. Charade

Elena shook her head disapprovingly, but still smiled when she came into her room to find Stefan sitting on the windowsill.

"You know that no one's going to believe we broke up if you keep sneaking into my room," she said in a voice that sounded more amused than she had planned.

"I don't think _anyone_ believes us," Stefan replied, not only wearing a smug grin, but a very nicely fitting suit. When Stefan approached her, Elena immediately reached out her hands to touch the black fabric. "Except for Katherine."

Elena sighed, smoothing Stefan's jacket, although it was not necessary. "Too bad. I would've loved to accompany this handsome man to the Masquerade Ball."

"We shouldn't risk this with Katherine being around. Is Alaric already here?"

Elena silently said goodbye to the mood. "He's downstairs with Jenna, although I'm pretty sure I won't need a bodyguard. Just promise me to keep an eye on Tyler." When Stefan nodded a bit too enthusiastically, she lifted a warning finger to his face. "_Without_ getting bromantic."

Stefan laughed, something he did more often lately, especially when Damon's newest distraction was brought up. Whatever he had walked in to, the memory worked better than tickling his stomach. Elena did not find the thought of Damon with another man very amusing. She could not quite place why it bothered her, though.

"And keep an eye on Damon, too," she added with a frown. Maybe it would be better if she attended the ball, too. She wanted to be there if something happened.

"But Damon's got a date. He won't be happy about a third wheel," Stefan said. Elena tried for a smile, but could not fool Stefan with it. He frowned as his always-too-serious eyes searched for a clue what was wrong. "You're worried," he stated eventually.

"Only because if Damon gets hurt, we'll have to deal with his… behaviour again. Jenna says Mason Lockwood was quite a lady killer back in high school." She shrugged. "Two lady killers make for a dangerous mixture."

Stefan smiled softly, only one side of his mouth curling upwards. "I don't know… There's something about them…"

"That makes you laugh out loud?"

"Yes, that too," Stefan said, once again swallowing his laughter as the memories overwhelmed him. "But I start to think that they… work. Not sure yet. Need to go and check that out." He kissed Elena goodbye and left through the window.

Elena decided that she could get back downstairs and ask Jenna some more questions about Mason Lockwood. She just was not sure about this thing. Damon was not over Katherine yet, and Mason was involved with her, too. That could not end well.

She headed for the kitchen when a noise from behind caught her attention. Elena turned around and watched the doorknob turn.

Jeremy had surely decided that the Masquerade Ball was nothing for him. Elena reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open – only to find an exact replica of herself standing in the doorway.

Katherine smirked at her, tilting her head. "Impatient, are we?"

"What do you want here?" Elena asked in a rushed whisper, not wanting to pull Jenna into this.

"I want you to come with me," Katherine said.

"Why would I do that?" And why was she _asking_, instead of grabbing Elena and dragging her away.

Katherine flicked her fingers. "If you don't, then Aunt Jenna might do something even stupider."

Elena whirled around and gasped at the sight of Jenna standing at the end of the hallway, a bloody knife in her hand. She tried to run to her, but Katherine pulled her roughly back.

"What did you do to her?" Elena asked.

"You should rather ask what she did to your bodyguard." Katherine was still smiling. "There's still time to call the ambulance. It depends how much time you need to make up your mind."

Without giving it another thought, Elena stepped out of the door.

* * *

Damon knocked for the third time against Mason's door, before peering inside the room. It was still empty. Exactly like an hour ago.

Annoyed, Damon slammed the door shut and walked back downstairs. The Masquerade Ball had already started. Couples danced outside in the garden and in the hall, and although Damon was not keen on dancing, he wanted to get drunk with passable company, aka Mason.

"Hey." Downstairs, he caught Tyler Lockwood walking around all by himself. Something Stefan had promised him would not happen. "Where's your uncle?"

Tyler scowled at him. "Hopefully, he found someone with a vagina."

Damon tried hard not to lose his temper. "I have other good qualities," he said, despite the presence of half a dozen people who might say other things. "So, tell me where he is."

"I don't know!" Tyler shoved Damon away, with more strength than he would have expected. He almost bumped against the wall, but gladly there was someone in the way.

"What's going on here?" Stefan finally showed up and tried to play the watchdog for a fucking wolf, who looked like he wanted to tore Damon's throat out.

Damon pushed his brother away. "I wondered where Mason is, and this homophobic bastard insulted me."

Stefan raised his eyebrows, obviously not believing in Damon's innocence.

"What did you call me?" Gladly, Tyler was already balancing on the thin line to his werewolf-wrath. He lunged at Damon, already grazed Damon's tie when Stefan stepped between them. "I show you who's the bastard here!"

"Look at that," Damon smirked. "You do consider yourself homophobic? That's a bad image for the Mayor's son. What would your father think about that? Wait, he's too dead to think."

"Damon," Stefan warned. He had to grab Tyler's shoulders to keep the boy from throwing himself at Damon. "Stop it."

Damon stopped. But not because Stefan told him to do. "That's what she wanted, right?" Completely ignoring Tyler's attempts to free himself from Stefan, Damon walked to his brother's side, as if this was the perfect opportunity for a little chat. "That someone makes him _angry_."

Tyler might be a Lockwood and because of that owned a very small brain, but he was not stupid enough to misunderstand what Damon talked about. He stopped struggling, making a confused noise in the back of his throat.

"Look at him," Damon said, pointing at the teenager with the red face and tightly balled fists. "He's a grenade shortly before collision. She tries to trigger –"

"Damon." Again, Stefan hissed a warning at his brother.

"What? We're not talking about this right in front of him?" Damon rolled his eyes. "I actually don't care about that."

"You're just grumpy because your date stood you up," Stefan said, and he was probably right, but Damon was not going to admit that. "He's just grumpy, Tyler. Let me get you a drink, okay?"

Tyler looked suspicious. He did not answer, just stared at Stefan and then at Damon, gifting them both a look that would make anyone else feel about two inches high.

"Okay," Tyler said slowly and allowed Stefan to lead him out of the room. Damon was sure the small brain of Tyler just tried to plot how to get some information out of Stefan. Most likely, this would involve Tyler's fists. Stefan could handle that.

Damon walked back outside. He let his gaze travel over the grounds. The lights were dim, giving the dark night a romantic atmosphere that glued all kinds of couples together. Mason was not a part of them, neither was he one of those awkward singles standing in the shadows of the tents. But Damon spotted Carol Lockwood, a much better source of information than her son.

"Damon!"

He closed his eyes and unsuccessfully tried to breathe his annoyance away.

"It's so good that I found you. I need to talk to you. Now. Can we go somewhere private?" Caroline's voice was so annoying that he would only go somewhere private with her when it involved certain things that distracted her lips from forming words.

Forcing a smile, Damon turned around. "No, Caroline, I don't want to be the distraction from your teenage-drama tonight. Thank you very much." He walked past her, only to have Caroline follow him, as if he was a magnet for baby vampires. She tried to step in front of him, then even grabbed his wrist, but Damon jerked free. He had no time for Caroline's problems, which revolved around bloodlust, Matt Donovan, pity for poor bunnies, Matt Donovan, being Katherine's puppet on a string, Matt Donovan, and a mother that could not show affection towards her.

Damon had to admit that being affectionate towards her was quite hard from time to time.

"What?" he snapped, and finally, Caroline took her hands off him. She looked judgingly at him, but she did not know how it felt to get stood up by a man – and that was quite new to Damon, too.

Something was wrong with him. He had actually been that naïve to believe Mason would show up. That stupid moonstone had given him a feeling of security, but that soap-looking stone was surely just a bad replica, and Mason was already gone with the real one. He left Damon completely fucked up. Because what kind of idiot was falling twice for the same arrogant, egotistic bastard?

"Are you all right?" Caroline asked him.

"No. I'm grumpy," Damon said, realising that Stefan was indeed right. His baby brother was sadly not right about Mason. That guy was not funny. This thing was not amusing anymore.

"Uhm…" Caroline looked insecure. "Maybe I should go and find Stefan." She was apparently afraid to talk alone to a grumpy Damon Salvatore.

"Stefan's keeping an eye on Tyler Lockwood," Damon drawled, listening for Stefan's voice in the chaos of conversations that filled the Lockwood mansion. "And… Stefan's playing the psychologist for him. Find a room with a couch. They're probably in there. If you're lucky, Stefan will soon be holding group therapy sessions."

His phone started ringing just as Caroline opened her mouth to respond. "Hold on." Damon only answered it because it was Alaric bothering him. Alaric would never call him just to talk about the weather. And maybe Damon needed an excuse to get rid of Caroline. "What, Ric?"

"_What __a __warm __greeting __for __your __only __friend, __Damon,__"_ a female voice answered. A voice he had never heard over phone, because telephones had only been a vague idea back in 1864.

"Katherine." Damon motioned at Caroline to leave, forming Stefan's name silently with his lips. "What're you doing with Alaric's phone?" he asked when Caroline had disappeared inside the house. She was at least good enough to do errands.

"_Using __it __to __ask __you __to __give __me __the __moonstone,__"_ Katherine said and waited in vain for an answer. _"__I __know __you __have __it. __It __only __took __me __a __few __hours __to __squeeze __this __information __out __of __your __fluffy __werewolf.__"_

Damon had to gulp hard before he was able to reply in a steady voice: "Well, squeeze as tightly as you want; I'm not giving you the stone."

"_I __thought __you __wouldn__'__t __care __much __about __him. __And, __to __be __honest, __there __isn__'__t __much __to __squeeze __out __of __him __anymore.__"_ Katherine paused and listened carefully, so Damon tried hard not to make any sound. It was incredibly hard. He wanted to throw his phone on the ground. _"__But __I __found __someone __else __you __might __be __interested __in __saving.__"_

"Who?" He knew which name would come. He knew that it would not be Alaric's.

"_Elena.__"_ Probably, because he expected it, it did not tie another knot in his throat he unsuccessfully tried to swallow. _"__I__'__d __let __her __say __'__hi__'__, __but __hearing __her __voice __is __like __a __really __weird __echo.__"_

"Okay," Damon said, trying to stay calm. "I'll give you the stone. Where –"

"_Remember that really romantic cellar Mason showed you? It's not far away. You're going to be there in ten minutes. Alone."_

"Of course." Damon waved at Stefan, who had apparently forced Tyler to take a walk with him and Caroline outside. A weird constellation. "I'll be there." He hung up and shoved the phone into his pocket, next to the highly coveted moonstone.

"What did she say?" Stefan said as soon as he reached Damon. Tyler next to him looked almost adorable as he tried to fight a heavy amount of confusion.

"Oh, would you like to dance, Tyler?" Caroline asked, realising that vampire talks might confuse Tyler even more.

"No, I don't dance," Tyler said.

"You have no choice!" Caroline dragged Tyler into the crowd of dancing couples, beaming brightly.

"Hey, stay in our sight," Damon called after them. "That bitch now definitely tries to trigger young Tyler's curse. She apparently killed my werewolf." He mentally repeated what he just said. _My_ werewolf. _Killed_. He sank to a new low with this confession, and Mason was not even here to be dragged along.

"What?" Stefan could not decide if he wanted to look shocked or offer Damon a comforting glance. He sounded genuinely upset, as if he actually cared about Damon's feelings and not about the opportunity to keep his brother away from his girlfriend. "I'm so sorry, Damon. What… what does she want?"

"What do you think?" Damon pulled the moonstone out and showed it to his brother. "It's either this or Elena."

Now, Stefan looked only shocked. "But Alaric –"

"– is probably deader than Mason! It's 'kill Damon's friends'-day, didn't you know that?" Damon balled his fist around the moonstone, not caring if he smashed it in the process. "I'm going to kill that bitch."

"Damon, don't." Stefan touched his shoulder, more a comforting gesture than an attempt to hold him back. But Damon was not in need of comfort. "Katherine knows you too well. This is a trap. Why else should she pick out exactly those people you actually care about?"

Damon glared at Stefan's hand on his shoulder, until his brother pulled back. "What do you want me to do, then?"

"Stay here, keep an eye on Tyler and the moonstone, while I'll take care of Katherine," Stefan said in a soothing voice, obviously trying to calm Damon down. But a way of speaking could not take the anger from him. He was mad, pulsating with anger and something else he could not quite place. This was his battle; how could Stefan think he was better at fighting it?

"Alone?" Damon snorted. "While you're on bunny-diet?"

"With Bonnie," Stefan replied. "Because she will help me, but not you. Okay?"

The word "Okay" felt like torture on his tongue. Damon tore his eyes from Stefan, whose shining armour burnt his retina. Focusing on Caroline desperately trying to make Tyler dance would have been amusing if Damon had been in the right mood – or together with the right person.

Damon looked one last time at the moonstone, then shoved it into his pocket and did what he should have done right after Katherine called him. He walked straight into the woods.

* * *

Elena woke in a dark, somehow moist place she did not recognise. A cellar similar to the tomb, but a lot smaller. She tried to sit up, but stopped at the noise of chains clattering. Someone – she knew very well who – had tied her to the wall. Elena tried to pull the chains out of the wall, a task that demanded too much of her humanity.

Her eyes grew accustom to the dark, and as she looked around, she noticed another body on the opposite wall.

"Mason?" Elena crawled forward, but did not reach the man lying on the ground. From the short distance he looked horrible. Blood tainted the ground around him red, his clothes were shredded, and his skin was covered with bruises despite the fact that werewolves were said to heal quicker than humans. "Oh, my God…"

"Look who's awake…" The sound of high heels echoed from the cold stone walls. Elena looked up to see Katherine stopping next to old-looking metal bars. She played with a phone that had big spots of dried blood on it.

"What did you do to him?" Elena asked. "Why's he here anyway?"

Katherine leant against the doorframe of metal bars. "I need a werewolf, to answer your first question. And this particular werewolf hurt my feelings. You don't play games with me and get away without being punished."

"Why do _you_ need a werewolf? Breaking this curse is completely unnecessary."

"I know," Katherine said, smirking. "I'm only tired of running away."

Elena frowned. She was distracted by the noise of Mason recovering consciousness, but quickly focused back on Katherine. "What are you running from?"

Katherine was too distracted by Mason and too bored by Elena's question to show any more interest in her. She walked over to Mason, who tried to get up by supporting his weight on his elbows. Then, without warning, she stepped onto his hand, boring her heel through the back of Mason's hand. Mason threw his head back, but no sound of pain escaped him.

"Better stay down, Mason. I don't want to ruin my shoes even more because of you." Katherine kicked Mason away and walked back to the door, then out of Elena's sight. She heard Katherine mumbling to someone, but could not make any words out.

"A witch is helping her." The words came out as a hoarse whisper. Elena almost overheard Mason's voice. "She's… holding me down… I can't…"

"Are you all right?" Elena did not receive an answer. Mason had passed out again. Hopefully, he had _just_ passed out.

Elena tried to listen for more sounds from outside. There was nothing except for the rustling leaves in the wind. That was strange. If Katherine was not alone, why did she stop talking to her witch? Was it to lull whoever would come to her rescue into safety? Katherine needed Damon, or more precisely the moonstone, but Damon would not fall for something so easy to see through. He would never run straight into the cellar in the hope that Katherine had just left.

"Elena?"

Well, maybe he would.

"Damon, this is a trap!" Elena said as Damon appeared at the entrance. He did not pay her much attention, almost instantly noticing Mason on the ground. Damon grimaced, as if he just bit into a slice of bitter lemon. "Katherine's out there, Damon. Get out of here!"

Damon tore his eyes from Mason and headed over to Elena. He grabbed the chains and ripped them apart. "I might as well take you with me," he said, and as Elena opened her mouth he quickly added, "Katherine's witch is dead, and before you ask, no, it wasn't me. So, I doubt this is a trap."

Elena only managed to make a questioning noise in that matter, then Damon pulled her to her feet and aimed for the exit. "Wait, what's with Mason?"

Damon stopped. "He's alive?"

Elena nodded. Damon pulled back at once, as if struck by lightning. Within a heartbeat he was by Mason's side and rolled him on his back. Elena watched him searching for a pulse and noticed a relieved half smile curving onto his face as his fingers rested on Mason's throat. Then Damon slapped him harshly across the face.

"Hey, sleepyhead. It's time to get out of here." Damon did not receive more than a soft moan that turned slightly louder when he pulled Mason to his feet after destroying the chains. Pulling a lifeless arm over his shoulder, Damon carried Mason out of the cellar.

Elena opened the door for him, expecting Katherine to appear out of nowhere any second. But nothing happened.

"Strange trap," Damon hissed to her as he walked past. "I'm utterly afraid of… nothing."

Elena shook her head in confusion and watched disapprovingly how Damon dragged Mason up the stairs, not caring that his feet slammed against the steps with each move.

Damon had a strange way of showing his affection.


	7. Roses

"Do you think someone took her?" The voice sounded exactly like Katerina's, just the way of speaking was different, softer and with a nuance of worry Katerina had never shown.

"Yes, Elena, a big, bad wolf mauled her and dragged her back into Hell," the dark-haired vampire snapped back. He supported who was presumably the werewolf.

"The poor guy looks like he's almost dead. What did you do to him, Katerina?" Elijah looked at the dangerously beautiful vampire, who, despite having no chance to run away from him again, stood there with a pouting expression.

"He's alive enough to suffice for your sacrifice. Damon is a vampire, and the moonstone is in his possession. There's even the doppelgänger!" Katerina threw her hands into the air in frustration. "What do you want more?"

"I'm not keen on letting this sacrifice happen, Katerina," Elijah said, letting his eyes travel back to the three people disappearing in the woods. "But I'm grateful you thought about me after all these centuries. I have to admit… I thought about you a lot, too."

Katerina gulped hard, no longer able to hide her fear and respect for him. As he reached out a hand, her eyes focused on his fingers, as if her stare alone was able to hold him back. It was not. Elijah cupped Katerina's chin.

"Please, I do _anything_," she promised, but Elijah knew very well that every sweet word from her tongue ended in a bitter lie.

* * *

The next morning greeted them with an annoying pair of chirping sparrows that sat on the windowsill. Damon shooed them away, only to find them sitting on the branches of a tree shortly afterwards. Their aim, despite cleaning their feathering, was apparently to wake Damon's guest.

Mason was sleeping in his bed, rays of sunlight dappling along the outline of his body under the white comforter. When they arrived in the middle of the night, he had still been heavily hurt. By now, most of the injuries had faded into bruises and a thin layer of reddish skin filled the deep holes Katherine's treatment had left. Mason was still pale. His tanned skin was ashen, and his lips dry and cracked. He looked nothing like himself.

Damon sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at Mason's hand that lay atop of the blanket. There was still a visible hole in it. He literally watched it closing before taking Mason's hand into his – only to observe the wound more closely, of course.

"Are you holding my hand?"

Damon should have known it. He looked at Mason, who was already able to smile at him in a slightly arrogant way. His eyes were dull and bloodshot, and the dark circles underneath them gave Mason an unexpectedly huge amount of humanity. Damon would have never expected that a werewolf could look so vulnerable.

"You seem to need it. What kind of wolf are you that some light torture almost kills you?"

"Wolfsbane. It weakens me." Mason sounded tired. "And she gave me enough to turn ten wolves into puppies. Plus the witch."

"Excuses," said Damon, determined to make Mason feel as weak as he looked like. "I should keep it in mind, though. Next time I screw something up, I'll tell Stefan the vervain killed my brain cells."

Mason smiled at him, not the usual blindingly bright beam but it was getting closer. "You saved me."

The moment Damon had feared was there and he had not even seen it coming. He dropped Mason's hand.

"I actually came to rescue Elena. She begged me to drag you with me," he said, extinguishing Mason's weak smile as easily as the dying flame of a candle.

"Alright…" Mason tried to get up, but he hardly managed to support his weight on his elbow. While trying, the blanket fell from his shoulder and revealed his bare chest. Only then he seemed to notice the lack of clothes. "Then why am I in your bed… naked?"

"Your clothes were shredded and bloody," Damon explained. "You can't walk around like that. I'll borrow you some of my stuff later."

Mason retrieved his smile, the right corner of his mouth turning upwards into a seductive smile. "Later? After we did what exactly?"

Damon considered an answer unnecessary. He felt frozen when Mason lifted a hand and cupped the side of his neck. Involuntarily, Damon leant against the hand that pulled him down.

Their lips were almost touching when Mason asked, "How can I thank you?"

Damon felt the smirk tugging on his mouth, felt Mason's breath tickling on his lips, felt the kiss happening without his permission. He pulled away almost instantly, suddenly fearing the intimacy that overwhelmed him without warning.

Mason looked completely stunned now. He had not only lost his smile again, but his small brain was also unable to understand why Damon rejected him. To be honest, Damon did not know that himself.

"It's time for brunch." Damon rose from the bed, only to find Mason trying to follow him. "You will stay here. I'm going to get you something."

Mason sighed, but slumped back into the pillows. Damon left him alone and went into the kitchen, where it was easier to breathe again. On the kitchen counter stood a used tray with two cups and a vase holding a few roses. Stefan seemed to think that Damon had nothing better to do than clean his dishes while he faked being a good highschool student. And Elena did not care for dish washing either while pretending to be a normal highschool student.

Damon decided to ignore the dishes and focused on preparing bacon with eggs. Mason, being a werewolf and eating humans once a month, looked like he would like some meat much better than pancakes full of sugar and syrup.

"And he would surely want to do something else with the syrup," Damon muttered to himself.

"Indeed," a voice from behind said. Damon turned around to see Mason leaning against the frame of the door, pretending to be casual but actually needing the support. He had not noticed him coming.

"Mason." Damon shoved eggs and bacon on a plate. "You look better."

Mason laughed hoarsely, and that although Damon had not even lied. Mason did look a little better, but not good enough to walk around.

"Is that my shirt you're wearing?" Damon sized the grey henley up that stretched across Mason's torso.

"You looked horrible in it. I, on the other hand…" Mason smoothed the fabric over his stomach, nodding approvingly. "I can walk around like this."

"You can't," Damon said. "I bet you _crawled_ down here. How do you think you get back home? Because I won't borrow you my car."

"I… I just need some air," Mason replied.

"My breakfast would be very sad… and cold." Damon gave the bacon and eggs a pointed look, making sure not to look disappointed but annoyed that someone actually tried to deny his delicious breakfast.

Mason's last protest was a soft sigh. It was impossible that he was not hungry after a pretty exhausting night. The way he scuffed his feet over the ground as he walked to the table made clear how tired he still was. Maybe he was too tired to eat. But Damon would not feed him.

He put the plate in front of Mason and sat down on the other side of the table. Damon pointed at the fork.

"Use that," he said, smirking.

Mason smiled back. He grabbed the fork and heaved one small mountain of food after another into his mouth. Damon watched him full of fascination. It was disgusting, but not disgusting enough not to picture that mouth busy with something else.

Damon's stubborn stare resulted in Mason munching a compliment: "That's good."

"I know," Damon said, forcing himself to look away before the desire to strip Mason with his eyes overwhelmed him. "I'm not a bad cook."

"You cook for humans?"

"It's not like I drip blood on my pancakes," Damon said instead of pointing out that Mason was not human. He looked so vulnerable, so weak, so _human_, and in comparison to Damon he was as easily breakable as a twig. Just another thing that needed protection. Damon was not good at protecting anything. He always screwed up.

"I wouldn't want to do naughty things with blood anyway," Mason said with a wink.

"Too bad, because there will be no syrup in my bed," Damon replied.

"Yeah…" Mason finished his food and left another dirty plate for Damon to clean. "You wanna go for a walk?"

"Not if I have to carry you again." Damon took the plate and walked to the sink. He needed to at least soak them. Stefan could wash the dishes later.

Mason joined him at the counter. "Do you want me to help?" Before Damon could answer, Mason put all the dirty cups and dishes from the tray into the sink. The vase with the roses ended up standing on the counter.

Damon shrugged, threw a towel over his shoulder and turned the water on. Mason gave him a push with his hip, so Damon stepped to the side and made a little room.

Washing dishes with a werewolf, that was incredibly weird.

Washing dishes with Mason was kind of nice, though.

Mason scrubbed and Damon dried the plates and cups. It was no hard work, but Damon still looked more than once at Mason's hand, buried in masses of white bubbles. He worried about the hole in Mason's palm – only because it would increase the work if it reopened and spread blood everywhere, of course.

When Mason handed him the last cup out, Damon found himself reaching for the other hand. Right before he touched Mason's fingers he stopped. This was pathetic. All morning he searched for stupid excuses to hold Mason's hand. If he wanted to, he should just do it.

Mason thrust the cup into Damon's hand, putting an end to all such thoughts.

"What about the walk now?" Mason asked, drying his hands. He could not stop doing things with his hands. Damon was unable to find an answer when Mason distracted him by tapping his fingers on the counter, running them through his hair, and ended up playing with the flowers Stefan had gifted Elena this morning.

"Roses, yeah?" Mason plucked one flower from the vase and sniffed at it. "For your brother's girlfriend."

"I see, walk means talk. _That_ talk."

"You started talking about her," Mason said. He turned the rose in his fingers as he walked to the door, expecting Damon to follow him like an affectionate puppy. He did. But only because Mason's knees were still weak and he surely needed support to reach the doors that let into the garden. Damon did not help him.

The sun greeted them with warm rays of golden light, and a light breeze brushed over their faces. Mason closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The pair of sparrows had settled onto the rim of the fountain that emerged in the middle of the garden.

"That's better," Mason said, and he did indeed look better. Maybe it was the light of the sun that gave him his tan back. He sat on the edge of the fountain, and the sparrows stayed on the opposite. But when Damon walked closer the birds darted into the air. Animals hated him since he was dead.

"Where's Katherine?" Mason asked, still playing with the rose. The red petals suffered under his tight grip.

"Why? Do you want to crawl back to her after everything she did?"

"Yeah, but only to rip her heart out." Mason started with a petal, which he ripped out quite brutally. His emotional stability was obviously at an end. The veins on his hand pulsated around the faint mark Katherine's heel had left there. Damon had not expected such a reaction. If Mason needed a hug, Damon had to go and find Stefan.

"Look, Damon…" Mason let the rose fall on the ground and turned to look at Damon. "I will not end up as the plaything of a vampire again. Nothing good's gonna come of that. You've been a great distraction, and I won't tell you how unhealthy it is to be in love with Katherine's lookalike, but –"

"But you just did." And Damon was annoyed that everyone had to tell him how 'unhealthy' everything he did was.

Mason looked at him silently. His pale, exhausted face was easy to read. He could not handle being treated… being tortured and betrayed by the woman he loved. Damon himself had almost exploded after realising Katherine's betrayal. He did not want the same fate for Mason. They seemed to be so similar in so many aspects.

"I was thinking about going back to Florida," Mason eventually said. "Tyler doesn't want me here, you rather want Elena here, Katherine wants me dead… and breaking the curse won't work. I feel like I'm about to explode."

Damon frowned. "What do you mean, the curse-thing won't work?"

Mason's face hardened.

"Let's just talk about the interesting part," Damon said. "I'm not good at emotional faggy stuff."

Mason jumped to his feet, eyes flaring up with rage or pain but disappearing in werewolf-yellow before giving the exact emotion away. "Because breaking the curse would mean your precious Elena had to die. And I don't like killing people." He turned around, squashing the rose under the bottom of his foot. Damon jumped over the dead flower as he followed Mason.

"What? What does that mean?"

"I don't know. Ask Katherine." Mason still sounded angry, but his eyes had turned back to their usual blue – or green? No, blue – colour. Damon grabbed his wrist and stopped him from walking away like a drama queen. But he could not bring himself to tell Mason how stupid his behaviour was.

Mason's pulse bumped against his fingertips. Damon fought the strong urge to move his fingers to Mason's hand and hold it, squeeze it lightly and offer him a moment of comfort. But was that what Mason needed right now? And why did he care? Why did he think he knew what Mason needed? Just because they fell for the same bitch of a vampire? Hundreds of men did before.

"Let me go, Damon. I want to go home now," Mason said.

Damon shook his head. "You know what?" He used his free hand to cup Mason's cheek. "When I freaked out about Katherine and the shit she always pulls, I found myself something else to obsess about. Someone else. _You_."

"You want me to search myself a new obsession?" Mason asked, stupid as always.

"No," Damon replied, rolling his eyes. "I don't care what you do. All I want is for you to stay, so I won't freak out. I need you, Mason, because I'm a selfish bastard."

Surprisingly enough, Mason smiled again. He leant forward and pressed his mouth to Damon's. It was not a long kiss, but rather one of these Elena gave Stefan when they parted after school. Damon would not allow Mason to leave him now.

"I'll be selfish, too," Mason said and patted Damon's shoulder. "And… since you don't want me to thank you… I'll be leaving now."

Damon felt Mason's hands slip away from him. He gazed after Mason, who walked away without a hint of weak knees left.

Damon's knees felt like rubber as he tried to walk back to the house and not to run after a stupid, selfish werewolf.

* * *

"Vampires and Werewolves never make a good combination, don't you think so too, Katerina?" Elijah walked to the fountain, where the two men had exchanged a not-so-happy conversation. He picked the flower of the ground, a slightly squished rose. Stroking the petals straight again, he turned to Katerina.

She had to follow him, but had stopped talking a while ago. Her pouting lips remained sealed.

"I want you to do something for me," Elijah said, sniffing at the rose. The flower was ugly, but like this perfect for Katerina. He gave her the rose.

Katerina took it reluctantly. "As long as I don't have to play cupid for your new dream couple…"

"You said _anything_, don't forget that," Elijah said. "But then it again it is not like you had a choice."


End file.
